


A Matter of Taste

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Romance, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-20
Updated: 2006-03-20
Packaged: 2019-02-02 18:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: If Daniel be the food of love... then Jack O'Neill wants nothing more than to stuff his face.





	A Matter of Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

I'm in my happy place right now, right at this minute.

Do ya wanna know where I am?

I'm deep in the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain in Dr. Daniel Jackson's office.

Nothing odd about that you might think?

A General has the right to be anywhere he wants in his command and nothing short of an all-out attack on base or a Presidential visit would stop me doing this right now.

I'm on my knees, under Daniel's desk, his BDU's are unbuttoned and pushed aside and I'm sucking him off and fucking loving it! I can hear his muffled whimpers and the creaks of the chair as he rocks. His hands are holding on to the armrests in a white knuckled death grip as I proceed to turn him inside out.

There is not much room to maneuver in the cramped confines of the crawl space under the desk, but there is enough to allow me to clamp my hands on his hips, or else his whole body would be leaping down my throat. He manages to force a hand from the chair and clutch it convulsively in my hair, moaning deep in his throat, entreating me to take him deeper, do it faster...harder. He's the god's own definition of a demanding lover.

I know what you're thinking.

I know it's fucking risky! I may not be the sharpest tool in the box, but I'm not totally stupid. The base is on lockdown and has been for seven days, it's operating with a skeleton staff. There's a glitch in the security camera system that Siler assures me will take hours for th techies to fix and the office door is locked.

I'm the man! The head honcho. Nothing happens in the SGC without my say so; I can get lost for a little while, mix a little business with pleasure and besides my pager is on.

At this moment I'm doing Daniel, everything else can wait!

I love the taste of him dancing on my tongue; the musky, spicy sweetness of his arousal. I can't wait to wrap my lips around his rosy, begging cock and just savour him. I slide my hot, wet mouth over his hot, hard flesh and I sip at the beading, pearly liquid like it is nectar.

Drink of the gods. They have no idea.

I've tasted come before; it did nothing for me. Daniel's is different. Maybe love makes it different, I don't know, but the sheer tactile sensation of having him in my mouth or down my throat makes me fucking hot.

Just as hot, is having him heaving and bucking beneath me as I bury myself deep in his ass. I love to lick the sweat that trickles down between his shoulder blades and pools along his spine, it's tangy and tart and I can't get enough of it...or him.

Daniel Jackson is a total slut! Don't be fooled by that staid exterior of his, he always wants some. Take today. I burst into his office making my intentions pretty clear; he uttered a token protest while yanking open his BDU's at the same time. I have to keep reminding him I have a lot more miles on the clock than he does and I need some pit stops. 

"Your chassis may be well used," he said with a sultry smile as he kinda patted me, "but the secret of good engine performance is to keep it well lubricated."

I tell ya, I defy anyone to hear Daniel Jackson talking dirty and not be flat on their backs, legs in the air, yelling 'hurry up and fuck me', quicker than they can say Viagra.

Okay, okay, I'm a total slut too!

Now don't get me wrong, he's only like that with me. It takes a while to get into his pants and he's into total commitment an' all, but once you're there, he's a complete horndog. I guess after not getting some...well, not in his right mind... for a few years, he was bound to wanna explode...sexually I mean.

Hey! Don't even go there...Daniel is sane...I have the certificates to prove it.

Hence, here I am, under his desk, drinking him in. My knees are not hurting as much as they should, thanks to the ceremonial blow job cushion that Daniel keeps handy in case he can drag any susceptible USAF Generals who happen to be innocently passing his office in to perform indecent sex acts.

"J...J...Jack." Daniel groans involuntarily. He stuffs the collar of his jacket into his mouth to stifle any noise. 

Daniel is vocal during sex...umm very vocal. I wonder if the budget will stretch to soundproofing his office?

Oh, he's so close. I look up between the desk and chair and glance at him. I'm frying his brains. His head is thrown back, he's tossed his glasses and his face is flushed and shiny. The hand pulling out my hair is urging me on.

Yes, Sir!

I pull my mouth away from his dick with an audible pop. The cool air of the office after the moist heat of my mouth makes his hard shaft twitch with reaction; I like that visual so I blow on the sensitive head.

Really Dr Jackson! Call yourself a linguist? He can have a real potty mouth when thwarted. 

It's not all about sex though...seriously. You believe me...right?

I've put some real crap in my mouth in the name of survival over the years. It's one of the first things the military teaches.

If it's there and it's edible, eat it...fast!

You'll never know when you'll get food in your belly again. I guess I got used to it...like gun drill, it becomes learned behaviour.

Open mouth.

Shove food in.

Close mouth.

Chew.

Swallow.

Sara used to really get on my case about it. She would spend hours lovingly preparing meals and twenty minutes after finishing it she would ask what I had just eaten. I had no idea. It drove her mad.

After Iraq it was worse, my taste buds had been dormant for six months, then I had no Sara and I had to rely on take-out, field rations or the commissary. Believe me sometimes it was a blessing that everything tasted like cardboard.

It was a damned annoying visitor that changed all that.

Urgo.

Two minutes of his influence and everything tasted sooo good, it was like mothers milk. I couldn't get enough. Stuff that I'd never spared a second glance, became fucking ambrosial. I wanted to eat everything and I gave it my best shot!

I looked up from the wonderful yoghurt and feasted my eyes on something even more delicious sitting across the table from me.

I had a new appetite.

I wanted to throw him to the commissary floor and devour him there and then. I wanted to lick and slurp my way over his naked body. In seconds I was rock hard, I could not move from the table. Daniel was fucking oblivious; he only had eyes for the cherry pie, not yours truly. I had to think about some seriously sick things to even attempt to walk out of there without a limp. Maybourne and Kinsey in drag, singing 'It's Raining Men' just about did the trick.

Urgo was planting some very suggestive thoughts in my head. It took the discipline of a lifetime to resist them but I could not help sticking to Daniel like glue. Once the implants had been removed, I hoped that this deep hunger I had to fuck my best friend would evaporate too.

It didn't.

It took me quite a while to come to terms with being in lust with a blue eyed archaeologist and unfortunately for me I had all the time I needed, 'cos I was stranded on Edora. 

I've learned the hard way...believe me it was fucking hard, that you really only appreciate something when it's not there anymore. It was true with Charlie and Sara and on Edora I realised I it was the same with Daniel. For ninety-nine days I thought and fantasised about him and trust me some of those babies had to be be given an NC-17 rating for graphic adult content. 

On day one hundred I gave up!

I put all thoughts of Daniel and the itch I could not scratch out of my head. Laira was sweet and available and she needed me, it was...nice to be needed. So I took her to bed and that's exactly what it was - nice! Not earth shattering nor spectacular, just...nice.

The next morning I felt like puking; my guts were telling me I'd betrayed Daniel even though my brain was arguing with it...in bullet points. I should always go with my gut. Laira was kind; I knew the sex had been disappointing for her...just a tad. When I was rescued, we both said our goodbyes with little regret. I felt more emotion looking at Daniel's strained, weary face than I had when in bed, in Laira.

I made up my mind; I had to tell him how I felt.

As usual, my timing sucked. Earth's allies were tetchy about technology mysteriously disappearing and yours truly was suckered into getting to the bottom of it. I tried to explain to Hammond that the only bottom I was interested in at the present time was a certain resident civilian genius's, but I don't think he would have appreciated the exchange of information.

Have you ever had your heart ripped out?

I looked into Daniel's stricken, devastated eyes as he sat in my front room and I told him our friendship was a lie and I wanted to open my chest, pull it out and just hand it to him. If I had, I would not have blamed him if he'd tossed it. At that moment I realised it was not just overwhelming lust, but love too, deep abiding love. I had to get rid of him - another minute and I would have been on my knees in front of him begging him for anything. Sometimes only Italian Opera can truly sum up what you want to say.

I could feel the twin lasers of those blue eyes searing my back as I made my way up the ramp. Someone up there must like me a bit...yes, yes I know Thor does! I think if Daniel had come to say goodbye I would have lost it. As it was, a zat blast would have caused me less pain than the look from his eyes. I've never come so close to defying orders, no matter what the cost. I went through the event horizon when all I wanted to do was run up to the briefing room, throw my spacemonkey across the table and leave him in no doubt about the nature of our friendship.

A couple of days later it was all over.

I was sat at home brooding about snarky linguists who liked payback, when there came a knock at the door. I say knock, but it sounded more like someone was out there with a battering ram. I rushed over before the wood splintered and there stood a really pissed-off-looking Daniel. I had not seen him since he'd left me gawping in the corridor; he'd gone to ground. He stood on the doorstep just like the last time but all similarities ended there.

"Hey, Daniel." I strove for cautiously welcoming.

"Jack," he replied tersely. He shoved past, pushing me out of the way, shed his jacket and waited for me to close the door.

He swung round to face me. "Hey, Jack. Guess what?" He was madder than hell and just as fucking hot!

I was incapable of speech - I just sorta...grunted.

"I've drawn the short straw again."

He hurled himself at me. I was smashed against the door as he grabbed my face and proceeded to kiss the shit outta me. 

Christ the taste of him! His hot, wet tongue invaded my mouth and I had no defence. I sucked it vigorously - it tasted like fire and ice, hot spice and cool relish. His hands tangled in my hair to keep my head still, has he reamed me out. The weight of his body pressed me against the wood and it was just as well or else I'd have been a heap on the floor.

Just as I thought I was gonna pass out, he pulled back, his chest heaving as he looked at me. He reached to the open collar of my shirt and ripped it open, baring my chest and abdomen. I was panting and staring back in a daze.

"Don't."

"Ever."

"Do."

"That."

"Again."

Well golly gosh go figure! I seemed to have picked up an alpha archaeologist. 

I tried hard to explain but he was not interested; he was much more intent in mauling me. He bit and nipped his way across my chest. I think he must have been a tad peckish 'cos he was certainly doing his best to eat me alive.

Daniel's hand was down my pants and groping my already rock hard dick, he brought his mouth back up to mine and I could taste how turned on he was. I was in danger of coming right there by the front door so I gathered some of my scattered wits and tried to haul his ass to the bedroom. He was like a six-foot limpet, but we managed to shuffle and bump our way to the bedroom, still kissing, licking and biting each other. Removal of clothes was incidental as we fell to the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs. We tussled and wrestled, neither one of us gaining the upper hand for long. I managed to toss him flat on his back and we just stopped and stared, panting hard, at each other. God knows where his glasses had gone?

With a groan I dropped my head and feasted on his delicious, delectable skin, moving so I could suckle one of his rosy nipples. It sprang to rigid life in my mouth as I swirled my tongue around it. I licked a trail across to its neglected twin, savouring the salty dampness that had collected in the small well in the centre of his chest.

My fantasies were only a pale imitation of the reality of tasting Daniel Jackson; I fell on him like a starving man at a banquet.

Let me tell ya about that whole 'it's not really about sex' thing. It's not.... but one taste and I'm toast. Daniel tells me it's a Pavlovian thing, I say nah, it's a dick thing.

I like to wake Daniel up if he's not off-world; I've got it to a fine art. Believe me, don't even attempt this if you have not got a cup of coffee in your hand, lovingly prepared to his exact requirements. If you do forget, he will make you feel not only like a first class bastard for the rest of that day, but he will also cease...friendly relations. So always have coffee, give him time to drink it in peace and then you will have a receptive, caffeinated Daniel. Now sharing coffee flavoured kisses with a drowsy, pliant Daniel kick starts the day like nothing else. Don't run away with the idea he's easy though - sometimes it takes two cups.

Sometimes I just watch him. He thinks I'm engrossed in the TV when really all my attention is on him. He will be sat at the desk, reading some huge leather bound book, concentrating on the words as he absentmindedly licks his fingers to help turn the thick pages. Over and over. It becomes a sensuous dance in slow motion. Turn page, read, slowly insert finger in mouth and allow those strong, mobile lips to suck wetly on ithe tip and turn the page again. I try to spare the brain cells to wonder if the little shit is doing it on purpose, but they are AWOL. My cock throbs like a goddamn bastard and with a growl I leap from my chair, grab his hand and do his licking for him. He watches, open mouthed and wide eyed as I go down on his fingers. Daniel's skin combined with leather is a taste that leaves me licking my lips and craving more.

Or him in the shower with his hands braced against the cold tiles, as I take him standing up. I suckle the cascading water from his oh-so-sexy nape or nibble at his ears as I power deep thrusts from my knees that rock him on to his toes. I have one hand wrapped around his hard length and my teeth latched onto the satin skin of his shoulder as the waves of completion blow us away. We fall into a satiated heap on the hard, wet floor and I bring my hand up and suck the essence of Daniel from my palm. It's a taste that speaks of togetherness to me.

Once I tied him, blindfolded to the bed and I smeared him with whatever the fridge and freezer had to offer. This is a food combination diet to end them all...food combined with Daniel! It's a taste sensation never before dreamed of, and if it was on the market, I'd guarantee instant weight loss.

He writhed involuntarily as I dropped spoonfuls of Karamel Sutra ice cream on his aroused, heated skin, watching as it melted into a deliciously sticky mess that just begged to be licked off. My hands were a trifle shaky....oops there goes another one! By the time I'd finished, he was rolling around the bed laughing and pleading with me to stop. Honey, chocolate, peanut butter and cream had joined the gooey combination and there was not an inch of Daniel I had not slurped. The bed sheets were beyond rescuing but my taste buds were in heaven for a week. Absolute fucking bliss.

I was a child of the Sixties. Man I was so stoned outta my skull that I did not realise that we were actually in the Seventies. I wanted the academy more than I wanted to be high, so I cleaned up my act. Now I have a new addiction - kissing Daniel. I've kissed him sober and I've kissed him drunk; I've kissed him with passion and when he needed comfort; I've tried to kiss him when he's been helpless with laughter, which let me tell ya is fucking amazing: Have you ever stood on a beach, with the breeze whipping the taste of salt and sunshine into your face and mouth? You feel happy to be alive, that is what it's like.

I've kissed him in anger and with love; I've kissed him asleep and even better, I've kissed him awake. This is non negotiable, I will never want to come down from that high; kissing Daniel is something I will never give up. 

"Forcryin'outloud Jack! Will you fucking finish me?" I smile at my master's voice, roused from my pleasurable memories. 

I take his hard length back in my mouth and quickly get back to work, bringing him to the brink again and again until he shouts a warning. That just spurs me on and suddenly he's pouring himself down my eager throat, until he falls back in his chair in an incoherent, sated heap. He's rumpled and deliciously messed, his pants are still open as I soothe his softening dick with my mouth.

I'm surrounded by him. All my senses are overwhelmed; I can taste him, smell him, see and hear him as I touch his body. His hands tangle again in my hair in dazed gratitude. He slumps bonelessly to his knees and kisses me gently.

"Your turn now, General," he whispers seductively.

Wow! Sometimes this job can be a real bitch but the perks are amazing.

I may be not the brightest spark, but I've learned one thing.

Once you've tasted Daniel Jackson nothing else will ever come...close.

Finis


End file.
